


like a single river

by orphan_account



Category: Jonas Brothers
Genre: Consent Issues, M/M, Masturbation, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling Incest, Underwear Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-22
Updated: 2010-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 23:02:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/544797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“Why don’t you go have a shower, then – ” Joe started laughing. “Um, nice underwear, dude. Jockeys? Seriously? How old are you?”</i> Originally posted at <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/boyfriends_fic/8834.html?thread=1080450#t1080450">boyfriends_fic.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	like a single river

**like a single river** ([reference](http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/potter/))  


When Nick opened the door and barged inside the room without so much as knocking, Joe snatched his hand out of his pyjama bottoms, on the verge of yelling. It’s just – he’d been looking forward to a long, leisurely jerk-off session the whole day, and his prick was only just getting nice and wet at the tip. Also, what the hell was _wrong_ with Nick, had he fallen on his stupid head and forgotten how to knock? It was lucky that Joe had been under his blanket.

He propped himself up on an elbow and shifted, making the blanket bunch around his groin so that it hopefully wasn’t obvious what he’d been doing. God, he hoped Nick couldn’t _smell_ it.

“Knock much?” snapped Joe.

Hip-checking the door shut, Nick smiled sunnily at him with the careless entitlement of a favoured sibling. “I’m here to commandeer your TV, dude. The one in my room is screwy and I haven’t seen _The Birdcage_ in a while.”

Joe huffed. “Haven’t you seen that enough times already?” He felt a little bad being mean to Nick but, well, he’d kind of been in the middle of something. So maybe he didn’t feel that bad, if Nick would only go away.

Nick, however, didn’t seem put off at all and he moseyed his way over to the foot of the bed. He was sweaty, curls at the base of his neck damp and trailing. He wore an old, thin, oversized t-shirt which looked a lot like Joe’s shirt that had gone missing last weekend, and mesh shorts. Putting down his bowl of cereal and spoon – tut tut, carbs at night, his personal trainer wasn’t going to be happy with him – Nick grabbed the remote off the end table and switched the TV on in time to see the movie’s opening credits, settling in like he’d be there for a while.

Well, that was just great. Joe fidgeted, hot beneath his blanket but not daring to push it off; his dick hadn’t gone down much and he didn’t feel like limping off to the en suite bathroom. Maybe if he was very quiet – he wrapped a hand around the hot, silky skin of his dick and had to let out a shuddery breath, eyelids falling. He rubbed a thumb along the head, feeling the wetness spread. It jerked in his fist.

Nick stood up suddenly and started stripping his clothes off. Joe froze, hardly daring to breathe.

“Uh, what are you _doing_?” he choked out.

“I’m hot, all right? You can hardly talk; you walk around, like, half naked all the time.” Nick’s voice came muffled from beneath his shirt.

“Why don’t you go have a shower, then – ” Joe started laughing. “Um, nice underwear, dude. Jockeys? Seriously? How old are you?”

Nick glanced down at himself, standing there brazenly, only wearing white briefs. He’d obviously been sweating and the material along his crack was damp, a little translucent. The sight made Joe want to laugh harder, even as it made something dark and heated twist in bottom of his belly.

He was trying to surreptitiously jerk off while his kid brother stood a bare few feet away in his ridiculous underwear. This was so fucked up.

But Nick didn’t seem bothered by the situation at all, seemingly totally unselfconscious. “They’re _supportive_ ,” he said snottily, but without heat. He sat down on the bedspread cross-legged and picked up his cereal, casting one last look over his shoulder at Joe.

“Aren’t you too hot like that?” His eyes were narrowed, giving Joe that familiar cock-eyed gaze, one eyebrow raised. He looked amused.

Joe swallowed. “No, I’m – I’m good.”

Nick made a sceptical face but went back to watching the TV. Joe idly stroked himself, light and teasing, as his gaze wandered down Nick’s back. He was really filling out, his shoulders nice and broad, his waist tapering. Joe found his eyes drawn to Nick’s arse again and again. It wasn’t his fault, it was those stupid jockeys – they were seriously _indecent_ , so thin and clinging, like if he stared at them hard enough he’d be able to see right through them.

Joe started fisting himself faster, biting the inside of his mouth to keep quiet.

Unngh, he could just imagine pushing that stupid underwear beneath the swell of Nick’s arse and pushing his dick against that warm, sweaty channel. Joe knew it would be so good and soft, better than a mouth, almost like fucking someone for real. Or, oh, maybe Nick would want that, get off on the feel of Joe’s hard cock nudging down there, want to feel filled up, beg Joe to put it in him. Maybe that had been Nick’s plan all along, coming into Joe’s room so late at night and taking off his clothes, flaunting himself, looking so good in those jockeys – he wanted Joe to rip them off him, give it to him hard and deep.

Joe had to let out a groan at that, but he was mostly sure it was covered by a blare of sound from the TV. He shoved his other hand into his pants to massage and tug at his balls and kept jerking at his cock, just totally going for it. The bed was starting to shake a little bit he didn’t care, and Nick didn’t seem to notice. Joe spread his knees wider, feeling way too hot, desperate. He wanted to fill Nick _up_. His hands were getting wet and messy, covered in sweat and pre-come.

He pressed a finger against his perineum and it was so good he felt his right leg spasm, the whole bed jolting. He froze even though it was agony, stopping when he was so close to the edge. His breathing seemed unreasonably harsh, obvious. Nick had to hear it. Was Nick’s back stiffening? Joe lay unmoving, waiting for Nick to whirl around and say, “What are you _doing?_ ”, to see the horror and disgust on his face. But seconds passed and nothing happened besides Nick shifting a little, moving his hand on top of the bedspread so that it rested right next to Joe’s foot. Joe shuddered, imagining that he could feel the warmth radiating from it through the layers of material between them.

Joe’s heartbeat slowed marginally and he began, so cautiously, to move his hands. He stroked himself with his fingers, feather light and slow as molasses, torturing himself. Staring at Nick’s arse in his tiny jockeys, he imagined seeing Nick’s tight little hole clenched around his dick, squeezing and fluttering. It would be so good, so perfect, and with that image in his head, Joe came helplessly in his pants, all over his hands.

 

 

[ ](http://statcounter.com/free_hit_counter.html)

A week later, Nick in his jockeys had become Joe’s favourite jerk off fantasy. He liked to think about nuzzling into Nick’s crotch, rubbing his nose against the material, inhaling deeply the smell of sweaty male and musk. Sucking Nick through his underwear and seeing the wet fabric clearly outline the shape of his hard dick. Putting his hand through one of the leg holes and fingering him until he cried or creamed himself, soaked and sticky.

Occasionally Joe couldn’t help himself and stole a pair of Nick’s jockeys for some one-on-one time. Those sessions were the best; Joe would come so fucking hard. And when Nick wondered aloud why his underwear seemed to be disappearing, Joe only shrugged, saying nothing.


End file.
